


Vectors and Valentines

by Toxin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - High School, Cringy Jackson, F/F, Femslash February 2018, First Meetings, Fluff, Jackson bashing, Protective Malia, School Dances, Smart Lydia, Valentine's Day, but in case anyone is sensitive to that ill just tag it, even though they are canonically in high school, femslashfebruary2018, like in line with season 1 and 2 Jackson, to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxin/pseuds/Toxin
Summary: “What is that?” Malia frowned and tugged at the plastic tied around her wrist as he released her“It’s a soulmate bracelet,” The sophomore explained. “Someone in there has a bracelet that matches yours. As you go around, you talk to people and try to find the person with the same number as you.”It all sounded like bullshit to Malia."***For my "Valentine's day" bingo card square. Inspired by a Valentine's Day party my sister is attending tonight, only halfway through I got carried away by a rant about consent and my desire to see Malia kick someone's ass.





	Vectors and Valentines

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd. I'm sorry, usually I spend more time re-reading and ask people to proof-read, but I have a few fics I want to write for Femslash February, so I had so accelerate the process a little. If there's an issue with the fic, though, feel free to let me know!
> 
> On that note, happy Femslash February everyone!

Malia kept her eyes fixed on the sophomore, whose twitching made him look more uncomfortable by the minute. After waiting for a few seconds more, she finally raised her eyebrow to prompt him into explaining further.

“Um…” He was about Malia’s height, but it was clearly a new development; his arms and legs were the kind of twiggy that spoke of a first exposition to puberty. “Have you really not seen the posters all around the school?”

If he was referring to the pink semi-billboards that had people blocking the access to Malia’s locker as they stopped to read, then yeah, she had. But only long enough to rip the thing off two days in so that she could have some peace and quiet as she grabbed her books.

“And this poster means I can’t go grab my textbook _why_?” Malia asked. Behind her, she could hear people grumbling about hurrying up, but she didn’t care. She was already barely passing her differential algebra as it was, and she had a quiz the next day to study for. She’d punch all of them in the face to get to her book, if need be.

“It doesn’t!” The sophomore’s eyes got huge as he looked around for help, to no avail. His fingers tapped on the table before him as though to ensure that the ticket station was still there to act as a barrier. “But I can’t let you into the school unless you buy a ticket for the _Soulmate Hunt_. I _know_ you didn’t come here for the Hunt—” He hurriedly added before Malia could, _again_. “But I don’t make the rules.”

Malia snarled under her breath, but the boy’s flinching was a clear sign that he’d heard it. With a huff, Malia pulled her wallet out of her pocket.

“How much?” She asked. The boy immediately relaxed and held out his hand.

“Only five dollars.” He smiled as though Malia wasn’t getting taxed on getting access to her own stuff. As he put the money in his register, he added: “and even though that’s not what you were here for, you still get to drink from the punch and chocolate fountains located in the hallways, the non-alcoholic bar in the cafeteria, plus you can check out the dancefloor in the gym. Happy Saint Valentine’s day!”

Before Malia could move it out of reach, the boy stretched across the tabletop and grabbed her hand, sealing a bracelet with the number 267 printed on it around her wrist.

“What is that?” Malia frowned and tugged at the thing when he released her.

“It’s a soulmate bracelet,” The boy explained, raising his finger to calm some impatient person in the queue behind Malia. “Someone in there has a bracelet that matches yours. As you go around, you talk to people and try to find the person with the same number as you.”

It all sounded like bullshit to Malia.

“And what happens if I don’t find them? I’m not planning on staying here more than five minutes. Isn’t that unfair to them?”

“The point isn’t really to find your bracelet match, though the scavenger hunt does add a bit of fun to the evening.” The sophomore leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, which proved futile when Malia immediately leaned back. “The point is that it gives you an excuse to talk to as many people as you can and meet new people. It’s a Valentine’s Day dance, so perhaps you want to find a Valentine, but we’re not conceited enough to think our random distribution of bracelets will miraculously match everyone with someone of their liking. It just creates a situation where you can socialize until you meet someone better suited.”

Malia rolled her eyes. She never understood why people were so desperate for relationships as to set up an event such as this one. Or why they liked this holiday so much, for that matter.

“Right,” Malia grunted. “I can go in, now?” The boy nodded and turned to the next person.

It didn’t take long for Malia to make her way to her locker and back, but to do so, she needed to pass through the crowded cafeteria and hallways. She had considered grabbing something to drink now that she had paid for it, but the people littering around dissuaded of her from lingering fairly quickly. Still, on her way out, Malia noticed that the makeshift bar ― though hideously decorated with garlands and hand-cut hearts — was almost empty, unlike everywhere else, and though it felt like a trap, she stepped closer and sat on a stool.

“What can I serve you?” A blonde from Malia’s class, Erica-Something, asked. Malia raised an eyebrow at the girl’s red waistcoat-and-bowtie combo but simply shrugged.

“Anything to help make all of this disappear?” Malia answered, and Erica snorted.

“No alcohol here sweetie, sorry. But I have grape, cherry and fruit punch, which I can mix with sprite, coke, or a combination of both.”

“Just fruit then,” Malia sighed.

“Same here,” Someone piped from down the bar. Malia turned to see Lydia Martin, President of the Mathletes yet somehow still a household name, because movies _lie,_ sitting alone in a white dress at the other end. Malia looked away, not wanting to be caught staring, but the next thing she knew, red curls entered her peripheral vision as Lydia slid a few seats closer.

“Never thought I’d see Malia Tate at a school event like this one.” It didn’t sound mocking, just intrigued, but Lydia put weight on Malia’s name and the ending words nonetheless, no doubt to try and provoke an answer. Malia grinded her teeth, wondering if she could leave before even drinking the punch she’d ordered.

“I’m not here for that.” Malia kept her eyes on the plastic cup that was pushed her way, and slid her math textbook into view to prove her point. She heard Lydia hum.

“That explains why you’re seated at the bar.” Lydia noted. Malia finally looked over with a frown, and Lydia raised her hands to showcase the empty seats around them. Malia tore her gaze away from Lydia’s eyes to follow their lead with only a _little_ difficulty. “The point is to meet people, so no one comes by here longer than it takes to order a drink before they’re off, walking towards the next crowd.”

Made sense.

“Then why are _you_ seated here?” Malia asked the next obvious question. Lydia shrugged, and Malia tried to ignore the white strap that slipped lower on her shoulder following the motion.

“Because I found my match five minutes in.” Lydia stated casually. “It’s simple really. If they want everyone to have a match, then they have to hand out the bracelets in pairs. They can’t hand out the first two hundred halves of pairs, and then end up with only three hundred people showing up total. A hundred people would be matchless. So I assumed for there to be as little disparity as possible, but to make sure no groups of friends ended up matching internally, they’d space the pairs by about ten people. My match came in seven people after me.” Lydia sipped her drink, while even Erica looked at her in surprise.

“Ok,” Malia said slowly. “But that only works if they come in after you. What if you’d been the second bracelet?” Malia wasn’t good at math, but she could still figure out that much.

“Then they’d most-likely still be in the entrance hall, so I’d go to the end and make my way down. People usually stick to their own groups until they’ve had a drink and are ready to venture out, which is why people don’t typically find their matches immediately.” Lydia shrugged again. “If I found someone with a number close to mine, then I’d know my match was most-likely in their group.”

Erica whistled as she moved away, signalling that she was done eavesdropping.

“Did you really come to a Valentine’s Day party only to see if you could out-math it?” Malia couldn’t help but ask, bewildered. Lydia laughed.

“Honey, what good reason is there to come here, other than to do math?” Lydia leaned towards Malia, but unlike with the sophomore earlier who’d leaned in to explain the bracelet, Malia responded by shifting closer herself. “It’s a game like any other, and more than anything, I like a good challenge.”

Someone shouted Lydia’s name in the crowd, and Lydia rolled her eyes as she leaned away slightly.

“Also, I’m sitting here because my match was Jackson Whittemore, and he likes socializing too much to stick with me when I’m seated here alone. Clearly, I chose the bar.”

“Didn’t you date Jackson at some point?” Malia questioned. Lydia raised one shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“I also broke up with him, which he’s still prissy about. He’s not the worst guy, mind you. I've had a thing for bad boys, so I’d know. Still, there doesn’t need to be a guilty party in the relationship for the dynamic to be toxic, you know?” Malia didn’t know, had never dated anyone seriously enough, but it made sense, so she nodded along.

“Lydia!” Jackson came to stand behind her. “Do you really prefer sitting here all night like a loser than hang out with me?” The look Lydia sent Malia was drier than the desert, and for the first time that evening, Malia bit back a grin.

“The point is to meet new people, Jackson, which I am.” Lydia pointed to Malia. “You aren’t new people.”

“Come on, Lyds.” Jackson put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder, and before she could help it, Malia hit the counter hard enough to make Lydia and Jackson jump. Malia hated when people got into her space without permission, and she couldn’t help glaring at the hand _still_ on Lydia’s arm.

“Take your hand off.” Malia said evenly, even though her own hands were clenched into fists.

“What? She doesn’t mind—” Jackson replied, but he was cut short by Lydia shrugging him off and Malia standing up.

“Did she say that? Because from where I’m standing, her hiding away at the bar to get away from you doesn’t sound like she’s trying to initiate more contact.” Jackson stepped forward until they were nose-to-nose, and Malia didn’t concede a millimeter.

“Listen you little freak. You don’t get to decide—” From one second to the next, Lydia was standing between them, a head shorter than them both, pushing at their chests with enough force to have them both staggering back.

“But she’s allowed to be concerned. You know who gets to decide though, Jackson? I do. And I decided that I agree with Malia. If you want to talk, let’s set up a time later. I’m _not_ going to air out my dirty laundry at a _school dance_ , and I’m not going to talk about it when you’ve clearly dipped into your dad’s scotch reserve before coming here.” Lydia huffed.

Jackson glared at them both but stepped back. Lydia turned back towards her seat, but as Malia went to follow her lead, she caught a motion on the edge of her vision.

Before Jackson could wrap his hand around Lydia’s wrist, Malia had his arm behind his back and his face smashed against the counter.

“You can’t be this _stupid_.” Malia hissed. “I can barely pass my classes and even I understand the concept of consent.” This time, Lydia didn’t intervene. She just looked down as Jackson with a frown between her eyebrows and a disappointed pout on her lips.

“I know what consent is— I just.” He finally slumped down on the counter, motionless.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just wanted the last word, like he always does.” Lydia’s voice was softer when she added, “Go home, Jackson.”

He nodded. Malia reluctantly let him up, but he left immediately, cheeks and ears a dark red. His down-cast eyes made Malia wonder if he was embarrassed about being handled by a girl, or if rather, he was mortified by his actions. Lydia didn’t seem scared, after all, so Malia doubted that he was as much an asshole as their first meeting left her thinking he was.

“Not the worst guy, huh?” Malia asked nonetheless as she sat down next to Lydia. She wasn’t sure if should be more delicate, but delicate wasn’t Malia’s style, and anyway, Lydia laughed.

“Nope. But like I said, I like them with a bit of an edge, and Jackson’s no different.” Her eyes were taking in Malia like it was the first time she’d ever seen her though, and right then, Malia had a feeling they weren’t talking about Jackson anymore.

Malia tugged on her leather jacket as she tried to think of something else to say, but as she looked around for help, she caught sight of Erica standing at the other end of the bar, sporting a twisted grin and wiggling her eyebrows at Malia. Malia resisted the urge to give her the finger, if only barely.

“So,” Lydia saved the conversation, nonplussed. “What were your plans before getting roped into protecting my honor?”

Malia snorted. “I have a Math quiz tomorrow, and I still don’t understand shit.”

Lydia hummed.

“What a coincidence. I happen to be great at math. Need help with that?” Lydia’s hand came forward until it lay a centimeter from Malia’s, waiting.

“You want to spend Valentine’s Day’s evening doing math.” Malia stated, incredulous.

“Honey, what else would I want to be doing but math?” Lydia repeated herself from earlier. Malia snorted, surprised by the grin that flickered across her lips, and finally pressed her hand to Lydia’s. The heat immediately travelled up her arm and down her spine. It made her shiver slightly. “In fact, I can only think of one other thing I’d like to do, and in this case, one doesn’t negate the other.” Lydia’s grin rivaled her own.

“Not that it’s your fault, but I might find you a bit too distracting to be in anyway helpful.” Malia whispered. The words came off more bashful than she wanted to, though.

Her eyes were on Lydia’s lips and the smile it carried, so she missed the way Lydia’s hand wrapped around her fingers. She certainly felt it, though, as another shock ran through her system.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m sure we can come up with a solution. A reward system, perhaps. Incentives.”

“Is that so?” Malia smirked.

“Why, yes. It’s a problem like any other, after all.”Lydia batted her lashes at Malia, playing idly with Malia’s hand. “And I’ll have you know, I _love_ a good challenge.”

***

Later that night, Malia let herself admit that she might finally get the hype people placed around romance and Valentine’s day, if only to herself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If ever you want to chat, my tumblr is [ here ](http://ghost-of-erica-reyes.tumblr.com)  
> My bingo card/goals for Femslash february are [ here ](http://ghost-of-erica-reyes.tumblr.com/post/170634766036/sooo-its-femslash-february), in case they inspire a prompt?  
> *Credits for the bingo card go to the [ Teen Wolf Femslash Network ](http://teenwolffemslashnet.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And, if you want more Femslash goodies (circa 2018 specifically), check out the Teen Wolf Femslash page on [ tumblr ](http://teenwolf-femslashfebruary.tumblr.com) and on [ AO3 ](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TWFemslashFebruary2018). Happy Femslash February y'all!


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